


Silver Surprise

by meiqis



Category: NINE PERCENT (Band), 偶像练习生 | Idol Producer (TV)
Genre: I escalated, M/M, Zhengting is a hoe for piercings and tattoos here, Zhengting's temporary tattoos? I made them canon, basically... pwp, except it's never without plot if it's me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-11
Updated: 2018-06-11
Packaged: 2019-05-20 19:27:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14900564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meiqis/pseuds/meiqis
Summary: Zhengting is appreciative of Yanjun and wants to give him a pretty surprise so he tells him to meet him at home later only to find Zhengting hardly dressed and with new piercings (again)





	Silver Surprise

**Author's Note:**

> based on [this](https://twitter.com/ynjuns/status/1005493248939315200) and [this](https://twitter.com/ynjuns/status/1005493710396649474) prompt
> 
> and because my bestie deadass told me _plastic surgeon_ first thing after seeing Yanjun's pic

Excitement, it was feeling blazing hot running within his veins as he was waiting all on his own, there would have been eerie silence in the apartment he hadn’t seen for weeks now if it weren’t for the music running on full blast, dancing through the rooms and hallways with all the energy, nervousity making him too active, looking at all the details he had missed before, before, when he had simply come in, thrown his bag into the bedroom corner, taken a shower, got himself dressed in his boyfriend’s shirt, one he had remembered having bought himself, a present, sheer royal blue silk, it was showing more than it was hiding, looking even bigger on him now.  
It wasn’t even that much had changed, it had been too long, had made him feel like a stranger when coming in, until there were all these familiar scents, the detergent of the bed sheets, the cologne smelling fresh, icy, as if he was right within an ice desert, it was reassuring in its own ways, the fridge as empty as it was always because both of them were used to take out, there were some new bottles on the wine shelf, carefully inspected now, each pulled out, label read, until he had decided which one to open up, one with a little heart sticker next to the year, a sure sign, because he liked sweet drinks and his boyfriend knew.  
His boyfriend… He pouted at the thought, he couldn’t even remember the last time they had met for real, because both of them were busy, one with fashion shows and photo shoots and being active on social media because that was what he was, that was his occupation, but showing off his face and all the sponsorships to the whole of the world and he had been lucky, to have been seen by the fashion industry by chance, jumping onto the trend at just the right time to soar up just enough, to have his name known and his visage recognized, and then traveling was bearable, was a nice little extra, seeing the whole of the world, and then there was his boyfriend, busy with his clients, busy working overtime, busy going overseas, because he was all that beloved and all that favored and considering he was still amongst the top plastic surgeons it wasn’t a surprise he was even asked overseas, for presentations and schoolings, all too busy, all too focused.  
One time it had been sweet, them meeting in another country, where it was less likely they were recognized, a date, holding hands, all romantic, all sweet, before he had needed to go off to a shoot and his boyfriend to bed because his flight was going too early and sleep was important. A night so utterly sweet, pleasing, none that would lead to articles and rumors the next day, about him, so known for his face, meeting a plastic surgeon, the best of the country, it had been but bothersome, hurting, they had become more secretive afterwards. It had been a change to their beginning days, back when they had met in college, a story that was fun to some and sweet to others, a story of him tripping during dance practice and needing to go the hospital, of a doctor in training treating his foot while so shamelessly flirting and it wouldn’t be him if he hadn’t gone with it, had replied to the flirting, had gone home with a new number saved in his phone, and it aided over his pain to be suspended from dancing for weeks.  
It brought back another sweet memory, now that he was filling a wine glass for himself, standing on his toes as it was nothing more than a habit, years of ballet making his movements graceful, elegant, flexibility that had been praised in bed not only once, but sometimes he missed it, these times when he was unconsciously moving to stand on his toes, teeth digging into the flesh of his tongue, right behind the little balls on top and below, moving against his teeth, a grin on his lips that could not be removed even when he took a sip from his glass.

_“Yanjun,” he had purred, just having come home to this apartment that already was his home, more often visited than his own place, the closet that was already halfway occupied by his stuff, at suitcase that was carried around back and forth, because he needed to exchange clothes, because Yanjun kept buying things for him he wanted to have available as often as possible, at his place, an apartment more like a huge closet than a place for living. “I missed you,” he went on, tightening his arms around the firm waist of his boyfriend, a week had passed already, one week in which they hadn’t had time for each other, one week he knew they’d be without contact, one week that was perfect to give him a little surprise now._  
“But you didn’t miss when aiming for my heart,” was the lame retort from the older, turning his head aside, a glance, a smile, a short kiss, and it would have been longer, would have been messier, sloppier, wetter, if it weren’t for his being busy stirring in the pan, warming up whatever food he had bought on the way home, enough for the two of them as Zhengting noticed with a little smile, biting his lower lip, reaching to turn off the stove, push the handle out of the other’s hands, get his mind off the food for a moment.  
“Just how do the people at the clinic deal with you being like this?” Soft teasing, the one that wasn’t to be mean, as he carefully moved to Yanjun’s front, slipped beneath him and the stove, the heat from cooking still searing up, surely noticed by the surgeon, pulling him away from the stove, stepping back, until it was the kind-of-model that had him pressed against the kitchen aisle. “I have a surprise for you.”  
“A surprise? You mean you got me another watch or tie or suit that you bought with the credit card I handed you?” Words that were followed by a soft laughter, because he knew, they both knew, that there was no offense in such actions, it was nearly sweet, how he had given the dancer a credit card to use however he wants, but then it was him to receive things, as if making each other happy was still more important than selfish matters.  
“Hm, better,” Zhengting hummed lowly before he parted his lips, letting the other look into his mouth for but a moment before he already moved out his tongue, all rosy and glistening, all perfect and tempting and - pierced. A silvery ball, not too big to be seen immediately, not too small to be invisible, just the perfect size stuck in pink flesh and Yanjun wanted to scold him, wanted to tell him how damaging it was, the risks behind it, wanted to ask when it had been done, whether he was okay already, apologize for having chosen the wrong dinner, because it would affect the healing process, something that had already started, seeing the reduce in swelling, but it was all consumed by an overwhelming greed.  
But a split second and his lips were sucking on the tongue, teeth grazing the balls, above and below, slightly pulling, just enough to get a startled moan, a little whimper, to leave the younger’s lips, sucking on the metal on top, tearing at flesh, knowing it wasn’t smart, might rip open wounds, no matter how fast they would heal in such area, but he didn’t care, because it was tempting, because it was hot, because there were whimpers and moans filling the room and legs going weak with the abuse, with him sucking on the oral muscle, holding up the dancer with sheer force, keeping him close, tight, too tight, feeling the hardness within jeans tight, too tight, and he knew it was intentionally, knew it when his hands slid down and grabbed firm thighs and could immediately feel how the other was pulling himself up to be carried by him.  
And it was but moments until they ended up in bed, half of their clothes lost, Zhengting didn’t even know how Yanjun had done it, how he had gotten rid of that damn doctor-like button up, had gotten rid of his fashionable distressed skinny jeans, how an overly expensive Gucci belt he could remember having bought on a whim and as present had ended up being wrapped around his wrists to tie them behind his back, how all that had happened, all while their lips never parted, the abuse on his piercing never stopped, just the right amount of pleasure, just the right amount of pain, just the right amount of being unable to breath, choking on his own saliva, just the right amount of Yanjun being in charge and handling him so perfectly well, as if he was but the knife held within skilled hands and it was just the right, just the perfect amount of making him feel good. 

It had been one of the many things he’d call a surprise later on, always coming back with something new, with planets on his ribs, with birds on his wrist, and always Yanjun would roll his eyes, would tell him it wasn’t healthy, how he shouldn’t modify his body like this, it seemed to be ironic, how his most beloved, a plastic surgeon, modifying bodies day in, day out, was telling him to stop doing it, and always with this specific glint in his eyes, a sparkle of love, adoration, telling tales of how much he loved them, loved every little marking, every bit of ink, loved the feather and words on his thigh, something he had originally wanted to be placed on his neck but deemed unfit, because the things he couldn’t cover up with ease, that would be the things that might risk his being on magazine covers, so he had placed it on his thigh, bigger, close to his hips, only to be seen by his lover at night, yet there was always a hint of worry, worry that things might go wrong, that a piercing would be done wrong, that a needle would go too deep, that weather and wounds and lack of cleaning would affect the healing and end badly. And always would he tell the older it was fine, that it would be okay, because when it came down to it, his boyfriend was still amongst the top in the world.  
Such sweet images, from kissing in the kitchen, being driven mad against the counter, they had to be stopped in favor of moving over to the bedroom, bottle and glass in his hand, he could only wait, with the other still busy at work, his secretary had already sent a message in his name, told him there was a delay due to complications with a client, that it would still take a while, so he could just spend it drinking, drinking and dancing and jumping around the room, on the bed, too big for one, too big for two, but just the right size to play around in, with a mattress springy enough to support his leaps, magically managing never to spill, sometimes interrupted by stepping off the bed, doing his own version of German beer yoga, with a wine glass in his hand and stretchings he had learnt in ballet, because he knew for sure, this would be a long night, long and sweet and hot and wet, and he didn’t want to be that sore after, didn’t want aching legs again.  
He had just slid into a split, his bare thighs kissing the warmed up floor, when he heard the door, greeting with a familiar ring, falling close loudly, a call for his name that echoed over the music, and it was just in time he could put his glass aside, laying down on bed more curled in than straight, with legs angled and perfectly showing off pale skin, with his arms lazily stretched, looking thin and fragile in royal blue, with silk hugging his frame, and he knew it was worth it, knew it was a captivating sight, when he saw the older in the door, all eager eyes undressing him, all flushed neck from hurrying home, all hands busy tugging at the tie that had been a present too as he was leaning against the door frame nonchalantly, as if there wasn’t already tension rising in the room.  
“How was LA?” The doctor asked slowly, not a proper greeting but it was enough, enough of an interlude for Zhengting to teasingly pout, acting as if there was dry skin on his lips, worthy to be pulled off, but he knew, they both knew, that his lips were too soft, too smooth, too tender, to ever have such thing as dead and dry skin.  
“‘t was nice. Hot,” the influencer slowly started while already rolling onto his back, playing lost in thought as he listed, “not as hot as a certain doctor. But there were many good-looking models too. Running around half-naked. I could watch them change during a fashion show when I was backstage. And it seems the women there still like me. Tried to hit on me. Also had a lot of shootings. Some were official and some were self-made.” He knew what he was doing, how Yanjun’s gaze went dark, hearing about other people, hitting on him, flirting with him, because he loved his boyfriend all possessive, knew that the sight of his legs was distracting, didn’t need to look even, he could feel the burning traces on his skin, just before he raised his legs above his head to skillfully roll over and off the bed, smiling smugly. “And I got you a surprise.”  
No reply, no proper one, there was only a little sign with a finger, telling him to come closer, met with a slow shake of his head, pointing at clothes that were still worn, too many, too much, a full suit compared to just a simple shirt, one that showed off his whole body all too effectively. No words, no orders, just a hand reaching for the light switch to dim it down, make it less bright, a dark setting, fitting the tension, the jealousy, possessiveness, the rising heat, and Zhengting was all but a prey as he watched his lover, watched a suit jacket fall down, watched sleeve buttons being undone, icy blue fabric pulled out of a belt’s firm hold, no further actions because they were already close to the bed, both of them, with the model’s knees hitting the edge of the mattress, with a firm body being right in front of him, always making him wonder, again and again, just how there was still time to work out.  
“These models,” low words were released first, threatening and awfully sultry, as if there was a ticking bomb hidden within arouse, it was all too tempting, all too teasing, fingers were hooked to the knot of a tie, a quizzical hum, silenced by a little force used to pull another closer, have their lips meet. 

It was all that was needed, enough of an interlude, a kiss that got heated too soon, with tongues rubbing against each other, soft flesh against metal against soft flesh, a kiss that was all wet, all sloppy, all hidden desire released, a kiss in which they had match again, because too many weeks had passed, too much time of no physical contact, syncing rhythm and power, and there were hands all busy, tugging at fabric, pulling on clothing, a tie thrown aside and buttons undone in the speed of light, hot hands meeting an even hotter body, pressed against abs that were but hills and valleys, roaming over them, exploring them, as if they were all new territory, as if they weren’t known for years, travelling down, further down, until he had his palm pressed against Yanjun’s crotch, rubbing up and down, finding his member, moving more, harder.  
A dangerous growl, it was all he needed to hear to fall down, down onto his knees in the limited space he had, all big eyes looking up, all sparkly with glittery makeup, all seemingly innocent, as if there weren’t hands pulling on belts and zippers and trousers and briefs, until he had his slender fingers wrapped around a half-hard dick that was quick to hit its perfect form, as if there wasn’t a pinky tongue licking rosy lips, innocently pouting, full, and the surgeon wanted to come with the sight alone, with his awfully teasing boyfriend, right there, right in front of him, right down on his knees, and right with his tongue licking his tip, just the right kind of slow and just the right kind of wet, and he groaned lowly.  
Lips that oh so sweetly wrapped around the tip, sucking on it softly, harshly, tenderly, violently, always changing, always the same duality that was the boy tasked, licking his lips in between, sucking and licking and going deeper bit by bit, lips that released a low chuckle, formed into a grin, releasing shaky breaths and small words of encouragements, calling dear nicknames, whispering beautiful nothings, asking a wonderful question, “This is not the surprise you were talking about, right?”  
With a mouth still stuffed, teeth covered by the smoothness of lips, with an oral cavern all too tight thanks to hollowed cheeks, with a gag reflex suppressed as perfectly as ever, as if it didn’t even exist, didn’t matter, because all that mattered was having the tip of his nose kill a perfectly toned stomach, no use for his hands anymore, hands that moved up and down legs, giving a massage to muscles sore from standing and walking, always again making the older wonder how he was able to, how the model managed to multi-task in the most adorable manners, how he could suck him off so perfectly and lewdly and lustern, how he could be a caring fairy looking out for him all at the same time, in a situation like this there was no need for words, no chance to speak, with a dick never parting from these slightly swollen rosy petals, not even when taking a breath from time to time, all he could do was shake his head because no, surely no, this was not the surprise he had been talking about.  
All that was needed to know, all that was needed to be shown, and there was a calloused hand grabbing fistfuls of honey-colored hair, a perfect hue, richly saturated and never too much, it was all that beautiful and all that perfect to grab, hold on to, a signal for the baby boy at his feet, to loosen up, to relax, because the next moment he started moving on his own, fucking that pretty and loud and wonderful mouth, watching how tears pricked on the corners of painted eyes, how red colored artificially colored cheeks further, how it stained pierced ears, all while dark orbs had but a look of arouse, pleasure, choked moans and little whines, thin digits pressing into the muscles of his thighs, because the younger loved to be mistreated as much as he loved to control, because it was a give and take, because he had already given pleasure and was ready to take, take what was offered and it didn’t take long, with a cock shoved down his mouth, twitching, with fingers in his hair, pulling, tugging, and seconds later there was hot liquid running down his throat, making him choke, making him cry, until he was released.  
There wasn’t even a cough, just heavy swallowing for some moments more, just milky drops running down his chin, mixed with saliva, making his lips wet and moist, all too sweet, all too arousing, just big eyes blinking away tears, fingers dabbing away tears carefully, sparkling droplets, looking all adorable, and elegant movements of getting up onto his feet again, holding onto his lover for but a moment before he fell backwards, ass hitting sheets, legs pushing him back, until he was all nicely perked in the middle of the bed, with his legs slightly spread, with his lips slightly parted, with fingers that mimicked an inviting gesture all on their own.

“The surprise,” Yanjun repeated again, stopping his own words because he realized they were useless, knew just by looking at his lover, knew with that teasing gaze, because Zhengting wouldn’t tell him, wanted to play, to allure, and it worked like always, with Yanjun rolling his eyes, stripping off his clothes entirely, moving onto the bed until he was well located within these delicious thighs, watching how they spread further, invitingly, tempting, how the younger’s back arched, beautifully, seductively, and it made him snicker softly within the otherwise silent room. “You like to play too much.”  
“And you like to join my games too much,” was the soft reply, soft and low and sultry, because he had always known how to play, how to make people go crazy over him, how to give what they wanted but never give too much, because leaving them hungry and thirsting but knowing it was hopeless was just the right mixture and it was just right for a tease like this man.  
“Because I like to play with you,” he answered honestly, straight forward, eyes scanning a beautiful visage, all clean lines, full brows, enchanting eyes, a nose not perfectly straight but perfect nonetheless, lips just plush enough to not be too much, jaw cleanly cut, it was a face he would love to create with his own hands and hate to create because it was already his, a face connected to such perfectly attracting neck, slender, slim, he wanted to bite it, mark it, leave dark spots all over it and knew he wasn’t allowed to because a turtleneck in summer was but hell, collarbones that were partly hidden by silk shining silver even with half the light gone, all soft wrinkles over a flat chest and-  
Lightly his eyes widened, seeing the startle in fabric, not the usual one he knew, from cold days or hot nights, when Zhengting’s nipples had gone hard, bigger than usual, throwing folds, and right there he wanted to just rip off the buttons to get to his chest, tear on fabric until it was gone, but only knew to control himself because he could already hear the nagging and whining and knew he’d feel guilty, for ruining another piece of clothing and one he knew was his on top, a present he seldomly wore but loved to wear, because it had been chosen by his love, so he kept himself in check, trembling fingers as he worked on buttons, from down below up to his neck, pushing silk aside to reveal soft porcelain, reveal perfectly toned abs, reveal black letters half fading in underwear, reveal little planets adorning one side of ribs, reveal two sets of silvery balls trapping rosy buds.  
“Zhengting,” he growled lowly, warningly, because he had told his lover not to do such things, just go off and get piercings again, not knowing what might happen, what would be the risks, and he wanted to be angry, upset, worried, but his voice was tainted by his own arouse because he hated them already, hated how good they looked, hated how tempting they were, hated knowing that with time there would be better designs, teasing designs, with dangly chains and glittery crystals, arousing attention and getting him curses because those would be harder to cover up, would be more difficult to handle than tattoos, and he already loved them, because they were a present to him, were meant to tease him, arouse him, and they would be shown off to the whole of the world, visible, evident, and he utterly loved it.  
No chance to allow a reply, the older was already leaning in, going for his favorite activity that was toying with the model, kissing him, claiming him, sucking on his tongue and the piercing, sucking on the little balls he knew had been replaced because the feeling wasn’t the same, because they felt bigger, heavier, running his own tongue over them only to then pull back, and Zhengting knew, always knew, as if he could read the mind of everyone who ever desired him, and stuck out his tongue, showing off the piercing, the little crystal worked into the ball, shining and sparkling and all that alluring, so he leaned in again, sucked on the ball alone, with hands busy roaming an upper body he hadn’t touched for too long, exploring skin, running his digits down sensitive sides, nails ever so lightly grazing skin, moving up, with no delay finding the two barbells, trapped between his fingers, tugging and twisting and pulling and tearing, with loud moans and desperate whines leaving beautifully swollen lips, choking on spit and arouse, unable to breath because there was pain and there was pleasure and there was the sweet taste of wine mixed with cum, because there was force and there was sweetness and it was messing with his mind, because he wasn’t in control and he loved it, because he was handled so skilled and he hated it, because it was messing with his mind and driving him crazy and there might have been hours that had passed when there was a louder moan, a suffocated noise, muscles tensed and legs trembling against his hips and there was no need to look to know there was a wet spot growing on the dark fabric of underwear.

“You came untouched,” Yanjun stated, matter-of-factly, as he sat up again, looking down at his boyfriend who was a beautiful mess on the sheets, with nipples swollen and his tongue heavy, with thighs still twitching and his briefs soaked, with tears making his eye makeup smeared and sweat making his hair stringy, and there could never be a more beautiful sight to the doctor as he carefully hooked his fingers to the elastic of boxers, pulling them down slowly and swiftly and always again so appreciative of his boyfriend’s flexibility, sullied fabric thoughtlessly thrown aside and landing on the floor somewhere with a small noise, revealing the dick of his lover that was still hard, all drenched, coated in his own cum and it was as adorable as it was filthy. “You really look like a cheap whore like this, you know?”  
He should feel bad about insulting his lover like this, calling him cheap, calling him a whore, but the shudder that took over that tender body, shaking him up, all that obvious, told him it had but the right effect, made the younger feel pleased and embarrassed alike and it was all that he wanted to see, all that he demanded, before he already left the little sanctuary that were two perfect thighs, reaching for the nightstand, drawer, everything just where it should be and the bottle of lube fast in his hands, undone fast, coating his fingers, sticky, greasy, spreading it well over his digits while walking back to his destined spot, spreading legs with his knees, locking gaze with glimpse, all focused on his love as he slid his fingers down, finding his hole, rubbing the entrance, all gentle, all tender, only to push two in at once, knowing it was hard to take, might be too much, but he didn’t mind, Zhengting didn’t mind, all erotic yells and arching back, all hips pressing against his fingers and whimpers when he moved.  
Two fingers, three fingers, pushing in and out, scissoring them and spreading apart, preparing and enjoying, because the sight was all but endearing, with the dancer rolling his hips, moaning his name, yelling into the air whenever that sweet spot was hit and stroked and caressed, turning into a mess with his fingers alone and he knew it would be all the better with just a few moment’s time, going harder and faster and further and wider, until there was a hiccuped, “Please… don’t play…,” and it was all he had needed, all he had wanted, to pull out his fingers again.  
Seconds, that was all that needed, rubbing his own cock with lube, coating it thick, grabbing hips with sullied and clean fingers alike, keeping them in place with one hand, using the other as guide, and it took but one hard push to bury himself entirely within the sweet embrace of his boyfriend’s hole, accompanied by fallen angels singing, because there was a scream of pleasure and arousal, was a back arching off the sheets, were legs trembling and heels digging into the mattress and he would have slid away if it wasn’t for his own tight hold on slender and inked hips, keeping the younger in place, well secured, before he started moving, slow rolls, finding the right angle, getting used to the tightness, better than anything before, better than his hands, better than Zhengting’s hands, better than that tempting cocky mouth, because he could so perfectly watch his boyfriend turning into a mess, all breathy moans and choked whimpers and tears pricking eyes, caught in lashes too long and smearing eyeshadow too much, hands grabbing the sheets because he was out of reach, didn’t offer a chance to leave red streaks down his back, didn’t permit any touch, all shaky thighs and rigid moves.  
All perfect and sweet and tempting and a whole show once he started jackhammering, slamming hips against hips and ramming sweet spots, grabbing flesh to leave bruises and pulling too rough, watching a beautiful face distorted in pleasure and all too ethereal, saying, “Your fans would die to see this,” and knowing he’d kill anyone else who ever did.  
All long and enduring because they had both already came, all changing positions again and again, Zhengting on his back and Zhengting on his knees, grabbing sheets and always slipping away because his legs were too weak and the strain was too much, and Zhengting on top, digging nails into his sides and leaving red marks with his palms, setting a rhythm that was perfect but always broken and moaning loud whenever his ass was hit by hand, and Zhengting on his side, with his legs spread and that darned flexibility be thanked for being able to go through the whole of the gay kama sutra, and Zhengting beneath him again, with their fingers entwined and their grip tight, with their lips locked and all but a mess. With sweet nothings and beautiful confessions, with little insults and bigger pleads, with choked grunts and arousing yells, with all these always filling up the air that was heavy with the scent of sweat and their greed, heavy with tension and desire, and never inhaled properly.  
Hours that might have been seconds and seconds that might have been eternities passed, all drained energies and faces buried against necks as their sweet nothings subsided into ragged breathing and lack of air, a signal and sign, so Yanjun pushed himself off, returned to their starting position, sitting up, looking down, grabbing hips, jackhammering violently, it was the last spurt of energy, until he could feel his dick trapped, until he could hear a sound that was supposed to have been a scream, until he could hear the slightest sound of sputtering when cum was spurted across perfect abs and he himself released within that tight cave, a low groan, a long exhale, then he dropped down onto the other body, not minding the mess of semen and stickiness gluing them together, could only care about swollen lips and pecking them, about watching a beautiful face painted in exhaustion, could only smile softly because this was the man he loved and he loved him too much, loved him covered in sweat and with tear streaks on his face and with cum spread along his chin and he only loved him all the more cause it was all caused by him.  
But, “No more surprises, Zhengting.”

**Author's Note:**

> I actually don't think I'm good at writing the sex kinda things but surprisingly, I think I did rather well on this one? So please don't mind if there were any mistakes like me forgetting to add the piercing in the succ, it was a mistake...
> 
> I want to point out that it's not wise to play with nipple piercings for a long time after you got them done, I even went to google the reference but decided that they can't stay in celibate for 9+ months so I just wanted to put that out there, you shouldn't get it pierced and then toy around with it just a few days later and a plastic surgeon is well advised knowing that
> 
> as usual, follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/zhengjunist) or send me stuff on [curiouscat](https://curiouscat.me/dadting)


End file.
